I Shall Have No Regrets
by spazzyd
Summary: Sam and Vala contemplate life and death in the infirmary. S9S10 and LitS spoilers.


**I Shall Have No Regrets**

Rating: K

Season: Ten

Spoilers: Seasons 9 and 10, Line In The Sand episode tag

Summary: Sam and Vala contemplate life and death in the infirmary.

A/N: There are so many parallels between Vala and Sam's lives and experiences, and as I looked back at 'Line in the Sand', I realized there were some fantastic opportunities to touch on them. Whether or not I succeeded in doing that remains to be seen. Nevertheless, here's one attempt at showing those similarities…

* * *

As she tiptoed into the infirmary and eyed the resting patient, Vala wrinkled her nose in mild distaste. She could never get used to that overly-clean smell – a smell that, if she was perfectly honest, permeated throughout the whole base. It didn't help that she'd never been a fan of hospitals before, the memories of her mother's final days in what she could only describe as a sort of tomb continued to haunt her even to this day, rearing its ugly head when she least expected it. With those memories came resentment that hadn't faded with time as she'd hoped it would. The child in her still blamed her father. 

"Are you gonna come in, or are you just gonna prop the wall up all day?" croaked a familiar voice from the bed across the room. Vala grinned sheepishly, as she realized that she hadn't moved an inch from the doorway. Memories, she was beginning to realize, had incalculable power.

Slowly, Vala sauntered over to the chair next to the bed, and sat down, her eyes resting on her surroundings awkwardly. She wasn't sure what the ritual was when someone was injured. She only knew that visiting Sam felt right. Perhaps it was something Daniel would do.

Then again, she thought, perhaps her actions were completely independent of what Daniel would want from her. Maybe she was simply worried for her teammate. Nothing more. When Vala finally gazed at Sam, she was assaulted with a gaze she'd only seen a few times in her life.

This was the gaze of someone who'd truly faced death, and had lived to tell about it. She would recognize it anywhere, for it was the look she'd desperately tried to suppress during their briefing, when the sketch of the Prior altar had been waved without mercy in front of her face.

She glanced at Sam again and smiled. Sam smiled back. "My, aren't you chatty today?"

Vala blinked, and the gaze was gone. From both of their eyes, she guessed. The walls were back in earnest. She wondered how long it would take before they could speak unguardedly, without such walls in place.

"Teal'c told me about Tomin," Sam whispered.

Perhaps it'd be sooner than Vala thought.

Clearing her throat, Vala nodded vigorously. "Yes. Well, Tomin and I had a nice chat."

Sam nodded and her eyes narrowed slightly. "He saved your life, even though it meant sacrificing his own."

"He did." Vala shrugged, knowing where this was going.

"You must've really hit a nerve. With whatever you told him, I mean. To convince him."

Shrugging, Vala reached over to the side table and snatched the open brown, paper bag. She'd smelled something sugary as soon as she sat down, and now her taste buds were watering. Right before she reached in, Sam moved as if to speak, but before she could get a word out, the treat was in Vala's mouth.

"Sorry," she said, her mouth full, "is it alright if I have one or two of these?"

Sam stared at her for a moment, as if in shock, then dumbly nodded. "Sure. Take the whole bag."

"Thanks!" Vala smiled wide and grabbed another macaroon. The two sat in silence, before Vala finally threw Sam a bone. She was so used to it being the other way around with them. "He told me he still loved me." Glancing at Sam furtively, she continued. "I don't think I'll ever look at him the same way again. And perhaps that's a mistake."

"You can't control the way you feel," Sam replied. "No matter how much you rationalize it, if the knowledge of what he's done, the memories of what he's done, affects you, it's not your fault."

"But is it his?" Vala asked. "He was, he was - "

"Indoctrinated."

"Yes! Indoctrinated. And in the end, he tried to do the right thing. I know he did. And now…" She paused once more. "I'm just very confused."

Sam nodded in understanding, and ventured to sit up slightly, despite the twinge. She'd been trying for four hours to breathe through the pain without morphine, and so far it was working. One more hour, and she'd concede to her body's demands. As she waited until Vala was looking at her – really looking at her – Sam tried to organize her thoughts. She wasn't sure if talking would even help Vala in the long-run. As she got older, she realized, as she experienced more and saw more and made more mistakes, Sam wasn't so good at talking. She had been once, when she'd first started out. An incredibly chatty thing, she was.

Time and duty and pain and honor had changed that a long time ago.

All she _did_ know was that it had all almost been over the day before. In the blink of an eye, her life had almost been literally snuffed out. The villagers' lives had already been lost, but more would've followed, had Cameron not fixed the device. She'd realized upon reflection that having the fate of the galaxy would've been much easier to swallow. Perhaps because it was so impersonal. Saving billions of lives was surely noble, but not nearly as stressful as saving the lives of a group of people with whom you'd had dinner the night before. Lives who'd entrusted you to take care of them, to save them once more from a life of slavery…

She'd constantly thought of those two young girls who had instantly taken a liking to her and Vala - Jera and Quila. They'd shyly asked questions of them when they'd first arrived, followed them all over the village when they were allowed, offered rare gifts of _Juko_ flowers that were symbols of strength and beauty.

After the Priors had left, there'd been no time to look for them, inquire about them or their families. Sam only remembered feeling the cold sensation of the village going out of phase and the cold sensation of going through the gate. She didn't want to think about what would've happened if their families had been the ones to resist the Ori.

"It looks like I'm not the only one who's got something on my mind," Vala intoned in the silence. Sam glanced up, her eyes wide. She hadn't meant to be so expressive (it was really something she was working on), yet here she was, seemingly with the weight of the galaxy upon her shoulders. She supposed they all should've been used to that feeling by now.

"I'm trying to make sense of it all," Sam explained, "in my head. Everything seems so surreal when I replay it. But it made me realize something."

"What's that?" Vala asked.

"My whole life, I've been cheating death time and time again. And every time I did, I would sigh with relief that I'd made it. Because I knew that, if I died, I would die with unfinished business. I would die without knowing that my job here is done. Does that make sense?"

Vala nodded solemnly. "It does. No one wants to die with regrets."

"Exactly. For ten years, I had so many concerns, fears, worries. First it was my relationship with my dad, then my brother, then the guys, then…" she sighed abruptly and smiled mid-tirade, halting herself from going too far. "Yesterday, I was actually at peace with what was going to happen to me. I worried for Cassie more than anything, but in the end, I knew that I've done all I can for her. She doesn't need me anymore."

"Oh, that's not true," Vala cried. Then softer, "Every woman needs her mother, no matter how old she gets."

Sam stopped herself short of replying with a hasty explanation, her eyes meeting Vala's in an awkward acknowledgement of common ground. Ashamed that (a) she hadn't known this before, and (b) she hadn't thought to ask Vala about her family, Sam could only nod, her throat tight. "Yes, that's true."

Vala sighed in mild frustration as she realized Sam knew where she was coming from. How had they been on a team for so many months and not talked about this? Honestly!

"We don't like to talk about it," Sam answered the silent question. "It's a defense mechanism we built long ago. Mine, when I was 14. Yours when you were - "

"Nine," Vala responded quietly. "And the boys know not to mention it."

"That's right," Sam agreed with a nod. "For instance, Teal'c had a complicated but wonderful relationship with his mother before she died of old age right before Ry'ac was born, but he never talks about her in front of me. He feels like it's bragging, even though I've flaunted my relationship with my father for years, and he barely ever knew his."

"Daniel knows what it's like," Vala supplied.

"Yes. All five of us know what it's like. And we never talk about it." Sam shrugged and folded her arms. "It's not OK, but it's how we operate. It might even be what drives us."

"I don't want to die like my mother," Vala said suddenly. "Incapacitated and incognizant of my surroundings."

"That's exactly my point though, Vala," Sam pressed on. "If we take care of what we need to take care of in life, then death and how we die doesn't have to matter. Tomin did the right thing. If – and I stress if – he died, he died with honor. That's all any of us can hope for."

"That's why you're not worried about Daniel," Vala realized.

"Oh, I don't think Daniel's dead," Sam chuckled ruefully. "He still has about four or five lives left." She sobered then and sighed. "And if I'm wrong, then yes… Daniel also died with honor. But I'm not ready to give up on him yet. I wouldn't be surprised if he outlived all of us."

Vala avoided the question that was always in the back of her mind: 'What about Adria?' And what honor could she possibly attain after her actions, which were far more sinister than Tomin's. No matter what she said aloud or what she tried to tell herself inside, Vala could never deny that Adria was her daughter, Adria was a part of her.

Suddenly, Vala felt a steady, warm hand rest upon her cold, shaking ones, and she stilled before looking into the eyes of someone who'd lived life nearly as guarded as she had.

"Don't give up on her either," Sam ordered. "This war isn't over. There's still time."

"But - "

"There's still time," Sam repeated. "And until you breathe your last breath, you will have a chance to save her - if that's what you feel you have to do. If the past two years with Cassie have taught me anything about motherhood, it's that." She let go of Vala then, the intensity in her eyes fading away into mirth. "Besides, there's a reason why Jera and Quilana called you _Juko_."

"Hey!" Vala cried indignantly. "They called you _Juko_, too, you know!"

Sam smiled enigmatically and nodded before sitting back against the blessedly soft pillow. 'Morphine time,' her back screamed. "Yeah. So they did."

With that resolved, Vala exhaled. "I shall have no regrets."

As she closed her eyes, Sam concurred, "Neither will I."

Relaxing finally – for the first time since they'd gotten home – Vala took another sugary treat from the bag and played with it mischievously. "So, what did you think of Thilana?"

Sam frowned in confusion and peaked from under drowsy lids. "Thilana? I think she's a great leader, and I actually look forward to seeing her again. Why?"

Shrugging, Vala took a petite bite of her snack. "Well, I don't know about you, but I think Teal'c might have a bit of a crush on her."


End file.
